The Poetical Works of Edgar Allan Poe: With Original MemoirJ. S. Redfield, 1858 - 247 oldal |
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1 - 5 találat összesen 18 találatból.
xxix. oldal
... rest . In person Edgar Allan Poe was slight , and hardly of the medium height ; his motions were quick and nervous , his air was abstracted , and his countenance generally serious and pale . He never laughed , and rarely smiled ; but in ...
... rest . In person Edgar Allan Poe was slight , and hardly of the medium height ; his motions were quick and nervous , his air was abstracted , and his countenance generally serious and pale . He never laughed , and rarely smiled ; but in ...
73. oldal
... rest ; Looking like Lethe , see ! the lake A conscious slumber seems to take , And would not , for the world , awake . All Beauty sleeps ! —and lo ! where lies ( Her casement open to the skies ) Irene , with her Destinies ! Oh , lady ...
... rest ; Looking like Lethe , see ! the lake A conscious slumber seems to take , And would not , for the world , awake . All Beauty sleeps ! —and lo ! where lies ( Her casement open to the skies ) Irene , with her Destinies ! Oh , lady ...
76. oldal
... I move As I lie at full length - - But no matter ! -- I feel I am better at length . And I rest so composedly , Now , in my bed , That any beholder Might fancy me dead-- Might start at beholding me , Thinking me dead . 76.
... I move As I lie at full length - - But no matter ! -- I feel I am better at length . And I rest so composedly , Now , in my bed , That any beholder Might fancy me dead-- Might start at beholding me , Thinking me dead . 76.
81. oldal
... rest so contentedly , Now in my bed , ( With her love at my breast ) That you fancy me dead- That you shudder to look at me , Thinking me dead : — But my heart it is brighter Than all of the many Stars in the sky , For it sparkles with ...
... rest so contentedly , Now in my bed , ( With her love at my breast ) That you fancy me dead- That you shudder to look at me , Thinking me dead : — But my heart it is brighter Than all of the many Stars in the sky , For it sparkles with ...
86. oldal
... rest . There shrines and palaces and towers ( Time - eaten towers that tremble not ! ) Resemble nothing that is ours . Around , by lifting winds forgot , Resignedly beneath the sky The melancholy waters lie . No rays from the holy ...
... rest . There shrines and palaces and towers ( Time - eaten towers that tremble not ! ) Resemble nothing that is ours . Around , by lifting winds forgot , Resignedly beneath the sky The melancholy waters lie . No rays from the holy ...
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
A. M. MADOT Aaraaf Al Aaraaf ALESSANDRA amid angels ANNABEL LEE Auber BALDAZZAR beauty bells beneath bird BIRKET FOSTER breast breath bright Broadway Journal CASTIGLIONE chamber door Cooper death deep didst dost doth dream Earl of Leicester Earth EDGAR ALLAN POE Eulalie F. R. PICKERSGILL fair fancy feel fell flowers gentle glory golden happy hath hear heart heaven Hope Indian Cupid Israfel JACINTA JASPER CROPSEY JOHN TENNIEL lake LALAGE Lenore light lone maiden melody moon never Nevermore night o'er odours passion poem poet POETIC PRINCIPLE poetical poetry POLITIAN quarrel Quoth the Raven rhyme seraph shadow sigh skies sleep smile song sorrow soul sound speak spirit star strange sweet tears thee things thou art thou hast thro throne Truth ULALUME unto voice W. J. Linton wandering wave wild wind wing words young
Népszerű szakaszok
42. oldal - I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love, I and my Annabel Lee; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me.
42. oldal - For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE ; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.
90. oldal - On seas less hideously serene. But lo, a stir is in the air! The wave — there is a movement there! As if the towers had thrust aside, In slightly sinking, the dull tide — As if their tops had feebly given A void within the filmy Heaven.
243. oldal - T was folly not sooner to shun ; And if dearly that error hath cost me, And more than I once could foresee, I have found that, whatever it lost me, It could not deprive me of thee.
244. oldal - TEARS, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
7. oldal - Nevermore." "Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting— " Get thee back into the tempest and the night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! — quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
37. oldal - For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people — ah, the people, They that dwell up in the steeple, All alone, And who tolling, tolling, tolling, In that muffled monotone, Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone — They are neither man nor woman, They are neither brute nor human, They are Ghouls...
42. oldal - But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we, Of many far wiser than we ; And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
243. oldal - To pain— it shall not be its slave. There is many a pang to pursue me ; They may crush, but they shall not contemn; They may torture, but shall not subdue me; 'Tis of thee that I think— not of them.
59. oldal - Banners yellow, glorious, golden, On its roof did float and flow (This — all this — was in the olden Time long ago), And every gentle air that dallied, In that sweet day, Along the ramparts plumed and pallid, A winged odor went away.